It's no revelation that politicians try
to strike a balance between doing what they believe in and doing what
will win them votes, the old see-saw between gaining power and being
able to do something worthwhile with it. We've heard a lot lately
about the 'comforts of opposition' and the 'responsibility of
government', as if power were just about being considered important
and not about actually doing things that matter. But in all my
long years in and around politics, I have rarely seen so blatant or
misjudged a bit of vote chasing as Johann Lamont's speech today. It's
no wonder lifelong Labour supporters are shredding their membership
cards in response. If Lamont's words are what the Labour Party has
come to represent, there doesn't seem a lot of point, really.
So it is that, despite having spent all
day working on conference planning and consultations, I feel I must
return to the fray tonight, because certain things are being said
that have been let go for far too long. Excuse me if I don't pull my
punches. I'm quite miffed that Labour's policy people can't figure
this stuff out by themselves.
Let's start with something for
nothing. This is a slogan we've heard a lot lately, a favourite
of certain red top newspapers and government ministers looking for
scapegoats. The idea is that those of us in work will feel righteous
fury at the notion that people who're not working should still be
able to get by. It's easy to feel, on first hearing this slogan, that
it makes a lot of sense. Why should those who do nothing deserve
something?
The answer is this: everybody deserves
something, because they are human. Everybody deserves to be safe from
starvation, to have shelter, to be warm enough in winter, to have at
least a basic level of health care. These truths should be
self-evident. What's more, the truth is that they don't cost very
much at all. Looked at over the long term, they can save us money, by
safeguarding the investment we make in every citizen whilst they are
growing up. Spending tens of thousands of pounds to educate somebody
and then just letting them die would be stupid, wouldn't it?
There are actually not very many long
term unemployed people in this country. There are a fair number of
disabled people who are unable to work or can only work part time.
There are other people who face unemployment in the short term during
economic slumps like the one we're going through at present (when you
hear Westminster Tories complain about a rising welfare bill, bear in
mind how much unemployment has risen on their watch). But the vast
majority of those in receipt of benefits are working. They are
contributing to society. They receive supplementary assistance
because what they earn is simply not enough to live on. That's not
something they should be ashamed of. That's something society should
be ashamed of. A legacy of bad policy-making and failure to regulate,
by successive governments, has allowed too much money to accumulate
in the hands of the rich at the expense of people like these. That's
what we need to fix. When you're being stabbed you get rid of the
knife rather than angrily discarding bandages because they fail to
soak up all the blood.
So let's come to another one. Tough
decisions. That's an interesting phrase, coming as it inevitably
does between people who've never had to choose between eating and
keeping warm enough to stop their toes turning blue. Let's get real,
shall we? Taking money from poor people isn't a tough decision. It's
easy - like taking candy from a baby (literally, in some cases). Poor
people are an easy target because they're generally too desperate and
exhausted to fight back. Mentally ill people having their disability
benefits taken away often struggle just to fill out the paperwork
they need to appeal - they're not exactly a political threat.
Politicians know this and, sadly, some of them are not ashamed
to exploit it. Perhaps they comfort themselves with the notion that
families or charities will step in to fill the gap (I'll be talking
about that one in an upcoming post - the short version is, we know it
often fails to work). It is perhaps difficult for some middle class
people to understand that poverty means having nothing to fall back
on. When there's no money for food, you go hungry. When there's no
money for rent, you're on the street. There's no-one you can call who
will make it all go away.
In times gone by, we used to talk about
the haves and the have-nots. Now we talk about the
givers and the give-nots. It's insipid. 47% of American
don't pay income tax, says Romney, so they can be written off as
scroungers, and people are quick to buy into that idea in the UK too.
It's bollocks, of course. That 47% includes pensioners who have
worked all their lives and are enjoying a well-earned retirement. It
includes children whom we almost universally decided, a few decades
back, we ought to refrain from sending to the mills. And it includes
an awful lot of people who are not paying income tax because they
don't earn enough yet without whose hard work society would collapse.
It's all very well to pretend that everybody who makes the effort can
be saved through the miracle of social mobility. That's no substitute
for social justice. It doesn't help the poor and it doesn't help
society at large. In this faux utopia, party whips belittle police
officers and presidential candidates pay so little heed to their
staff they don't notice when they're being filmed. We blame the
refuse collectors, the teachers, the nurses and the retail workers for
being poor, as if they could ever escape that in those jobs, and as
if those in the jobs we esteem could survive without the work they
do. Day in, day out, it is the working poor, including those in
receipt of benefits, who are the backbone of our society. They give
more than many of our politicians will in their whole lives. They
deserve our respect.
They do not deserve to be told we
all have to give up something. There's another slogan that sounds
fair on first hearing, but what does it mean? What has the recession
cost you? A tenner is a tenner, you might say, no matter who gives it
away. But the value of that tenner is very different depending
on your general economic circumstances. If you're on benefits, the
loss of a tenner a week means giving up at least two family meals or
five days' heating. If you're earning a comfortable wage, it might
mean you don't drink as much at the weekend. If you're earning a
parliamentary politician's wage, you're unlikely to notice it (unless
you can claim it on expenses). So let's stop pretending that we're
taking from the poor, the ordinary and the rich on an equal basis.
We're nowhere close to that. No politician who insinuates that we are
should be trusted with any aspect of the nation's finances, since it
is largely a failure to understand the relationship between money and
value that has go the world into this particular economic mess.
Labour, one would think, would get to
grips with these issues, stand up for the people who have long
depended on them. Don't whine that there's no money left. We are a
wealthy country. The problem we have is that the wealth is unevenly
distributed. Sorting that out requires tough decisions. Labour
do have to give up something, but it doesn't have to be their
raison d'être.
If they want support, they're going to have to get their act
together, because the electorate won't give them something
for nothing.
Get
your house in order, Labour. Don't make me come down there.
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